


Lists

by citrusfriend



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - America, Aromantic Characters, Bipolar Bokuto Koutarou, Dissociation, Drabble, Gen, Nonbinary Akaashi Keiji, Nonbinary Kuroo Tetsurou, Trans Female Character, Trans Kozume Kenma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 20:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13644057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusfriend/pseuds/citrusfriend
Summary: Akaashi Keiji is alone. They don't mind that; in fact, they chose that. Being an empath in high school is disastrous enough without any emotional ties. So they bask in their isolation and everyone else has long since left them to it.Bokuto and Kuroo didn't exactly get the memo.[discontinued]





	Lists

**Author's Note:**

> This was started as a drabble to try to get a better grasp on their character interactions, but then it turned into this lmao.
> 
> Also, Akaashi's empath thing here is more depicted as a power than anything vaguely realistic.

    _Pros to punching Owl Boy in the second row: he might transfer out of Keiji’s class._

_Cons to punching Owl Boy in the second row: he might not transfer out of Keiji’s class and then Keiji would get detention for nothing._

_Pros to punching Owl Boy in the second row: pure satisfaction_

_Cons to punching Owl Boy in the second row: it might spiral him into one of those depressive moods that Keiji wanted to punch him for._

    Keiji tapped their pencil to the paper in careful consideration. They didn’t necessarily _dislike_ Owl Boy. But high school was a nightmare enough for an empath even without having to feel his episodes.

    “Ooowoah! How does she move her hands so fast?!” Owl Boy crowed. Without glancing up from their list, Keiji knew exactly how wide his wild golden eyes would be.

    Owl Boy would be going into a manic episode within the next three days. Keiji would bet their life on it.

    _I wonder if he’d go to a psychologist if I guilted him into it._

Before Keiji could flip to a new page to decide if that was a good idea, they felt a sudden rush of negative emotion. Pudding Girl walked into class a second before the bell rang, like always, and sat next to Keiji in the corner, like always.

    Pudding Girl liked monotony.

    Idiot Teacher didn’t speak for the first five minutes and Keiji sat in the unforgiving desks, trying desperately to push away every emotion in the room.

    Keiji liked feeling nothing. They liked not knowing anyone’s names. They liked sitting in the dark corridor in the basement that was their bedroom and letting the blessed isolation drive into their bones.

    Owl Boy felt everything and it never went away. Pudding Girl would feel everything until she overloaded and felt hollow. Smelly Boy drowned himself in self-hate and buried it under snapbacks and cologne. Witch Aesthetic had limbs too heavy to lift comfortably. Farm Boy was so happy that Keiji felt worthless.

    Keiji just wanted to feel nothing.

    Idiot Teacher started calling names, stumbling over Keiji’s, Pudding Girl’s, and Owl Boy’s, but none of them said anything. They were three of the only seven Asian students in the school; they were all used to their butchered names.

    It took another few minutes for Idiot Teacher to actually begin teaching, but Keiji allowed their attention to flicker to the book in their hands. It was only the second week in the trimester and Idiot Teacher had already given seven false facts, so Keiji had resigned themself to a trimester of misinformation.

    That’s what happens when you take a psychology course taught by a white man in Idaho, Keiji supposed.

    Next to them, Pudding Girl had extracted a DS and began playing. Keiji embraced the sense of peace that flooded through Pudding Girl and began reading.

    All too soon, the shrill bell interrupted Keiji’s focus on Pudding Girl’s contentment.

    _At least I don’t have to feel Owl Boy anymore._ Too much positive emotion was overwhelming.

    Pudding Girl and Keiji exited the classroom quickly and pushed their way through the hallway.

    They had exchanged at total of twenty-three words to each other, but they had fallen into an unspoken routine. After psychology, they would walk to English and after English, they would walk to the bus. Keiji would leave on the eighth stop. Keiji didn’t know when Pudding Girl would get off.

    And so the day passed in silence. Pudding Girl sat in the fourth row from the front on the right of the bus, Keiji on the left. Keiji stepped off the bus on the eighth stop with a nod at Pudding Girl.

_Nine days since I’ve spoken to anyone outside of my family._

    Shaking the thought from their head, Keiji hurried into their house as quickly as they could without slipping on the ice on the sidewalk. After hanging up their coat and padding into their room in the unfinished basement, Keiji heaved a sigh.

Keiji wondered if they should break their silence to tell Owl Boy that he has bipolar disorder. They pulled out their notebook.

    _Pros to telling Owl Boy to get help: less second-hand manic episodes for Keiji_

_Cons to telling Owl Boy to get help: potentially embarrassing Owl Boy or Keiji or both_

_Pros to telling Owl Boy to get help: less second-hand depressive episodes for Keiji_

_Cons to telling Owl Boy to get help: it could wrap Keiji into Owl Boy’s angsty existence and he could begin using Keiji as a free therapist_

_Pros to telling Owl Boy to get help: it could help Owl Boy_

_Cons to telling Owl Boy to get help: Keiji would probably have to explain that they’re an empath, which Owl Boy could think is an invitation to befriend Keiji_

_Pros to telling Owl Boy to get help: Keiji would probably have to explain that they’re an empath, which Owl Boy could think is an invitation to befriend Keiji_

_Cons to telling Owl Boy to get help: Owl Boy could become angry/upset and lash out at Keiji, possibly physically_

    Keiji closed their notebook definitively. It wasn’t worth it. They would just have to hope that Owl Boy would get help on his own. With that decision made, Keiji titled and dated the list before closing the notebook.

    They’d have to buy a new one soon.

\------------------

    Keiji was starting to rethink their decision. It was second period and unfortunately for Keiji, both Owl Boy and Bedhead shared their speech class.

    “Bro.”

    “What is it, man?”

    “Volleyball. But on _ice.”_

_“Bro.”_

Keiji wondered if it was too late to switch seats so the Bad Hair Duo wasn’t directly in front of them.

    “But how would we do receives?” Owl Boy wondered.

    Bedhead’s eyebrows scrunched together thoughtfully. “You remember when we did volleyball with those towels last summer?” he asked after a while.

    What the hell.

“With the water balloons?”

    _What the hell?_

“We could do something similar on the ice. But, like with individual towels with poles on the ends so we can still block,” Bedhead explained, eyes widening with animation.

    Owl Boy pulled out a notebook and started scribbling. The excitement radiating from the Bad Hair Duo was almost nauseating.

    Keiji knew they were on the volleyball team. Anyone within a twenty mile radius of the two would know how much they enjoyed the sport. But this was _ridiculous._

“You know those-”

    Owl Boy’s words were cut off by the bell and Short Teacher promptly began speaking. Keiji plugged in their earbuds; they knew she would get distracted and derail into something unrelated for at least ten minutes.

    They could see Bad Hair Duo passing their notebook back and forth, Bedhead sketching detailed plans of their towels construction and Owl Boy scribbling things enthusiastically. Keiji shook their head and opened their book.

    They were only allowed to ignore reality for five minutes before their periphery caught Owl Boy spinning to face them. He slammed his hand on Keiji’s desk and said something they didn’t catch. Yanking their earbuds, Keiji wordlessly glowered at Owl Boy, who at least had the decency to deflate apologetically. Bedhead snickered

    “Sorry, sorry! We-were-just-wondering-if-you-play-volleyball!” Owl Boy explained quickly, the words pressing against each other in his hurry. His nervousness felt like it would strangle Keiji.

    Keiji stared at him. _If I did, wouldn’t I be on the team?_ But Keiji had a strange sense of pride in their streak of silence, so they just shook their head.

    “Oh! Well, Kuroo and I were making a variation of volleyball on ice, but we can’t just play it with two people, so.” Owl Boy cut himself off. Keiji couldn’t blame him; his anxiety was intense, even for Keiji. Bedhead was practically cackling and for once, Keiji could feel that his amusement it was genuine.

    They decided that even if it meant sacrificing his streak, it would be worth it if Owl Boy would just calm down. “You’re on the volleyball team. Ask your teammates.” Keiji inwardly cringed at the rough undertone of their voice from disuse.

    Owl Boy brightened and his anxiety seeped away a bit. “I could, but Yaku would probably say no and make Lev say no, and Fukanaga would say-”

    “His point,” Bedhead interrupted with a smirk, “is that if you want to come on our ice-volleyball extravaganza, you would be appreciated.”

    “Oo, that’s a good word!” Owl Boy stared at the wall behind Keiji and dropped his voice to a whisper, “Extravaganza.”

    Keiji was really hoping they could switch seats. “Thanks. But I don’t know how to play.” They reached for their earbuds, hoping that would be the end of it.

    Today was not their lucky day and Keiji knew that when Owl Boy gave off another spark of anxiety. “We could teach you! If… if you want.”

    Keiji wished they could feel nothing. Then, at least, they could ignore the amount of hope the Bad Hair Duo were harboring.

    Dread was sinking into Keiji’s bones, but this emotion was their’s. So they did what they did best: avoidance.

    Keiji pointed at the notebook with their ice-volleyball plans. “Can I see?”

    Owl Boy’s glee almost negated every other emotion Keiji could sense. He hurriedly plopped the notebook at Keiji’s desk.

    Bedhead was actually not a bad artist. His handwriting, however, was atrocious. Skilled, casual sketches of their towel invention covered half the page with sloppy notes around it. Underneath the drawing, Owl Boy had written encouragement and rules for their game. His handwriting, unlike Bedhead’s disaster of words, was so perfect it looked practically typed.

    “It’d probably work better if you didn’t use towels,” Keiji said slowly.

    Bedhead nodded easily. “I was thinking of using woven polypropylene.”

    Keiji had no idea what that was.

    “Oo, bro, that’s the thing we used for the acid thing freshman year, right?”

    Keiji blinked. The _what?_

    A small burst of affection and animation eminated from Bedhead. “Yeah, but that wasn’t woven. This will be like the shit on trampolines.”

    Owl Boy’s eyes went wide and looked like the owls that Keiji had named him after.

    Keiji set the notebook down and leaned back, hoping they could ease out of the conversation.

    “Hey, hey, hey, do you think we could convince Kenma to play with us?” Owl Boy inquired after his moment of awe.

    Bedhead smirked and Keiji did not want to know why he was feeling mischievous. “She will if I get a certain setter to play,” he sang.

    Owl Boy instantly matched Bedhead’s expression before falling into a contemplative one. “We just gotta convince Iwaizumi.”

    Bedhead grimaced. “Ah, damn.”

    Keiji really shouldn’t say anything. They definitely shouldn’t, but they created a mental pro-con list anyway.

_Pros to helping them: sadistic satisfaction_

_Cons to helping them: they might start to think Keiji is approachable_

_Pros to helping them: more sadistic satisfaction_

    “I can convince Iwaizumi-san to agree,” they said.

    Two matching shocked expressions turned their way. Keiji ignored the Bad Hair Duo’s surprise and hope and pulled out their phone.

    “I have blackmail.”


End file.
